


Excuses and Weaknesses

by Anonymous



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: Angst and Feels, Empire of gold spoilers, F/M, Making Out, Mentions of Muntadhir, Nahri and Dara and the events of ch. 46, Rated M not really for content (just making out) but for context. It's kinda manipulative ngl, Sexual Inexperience, Unrequited Love, Yearning, post-Empire of Gold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ali is feeling insecure about his bedroom inexperience, so Fiza offers to give him some friendly advice. What could possibly go wrong, with two djinn alone in a room.
Relationships: Fiza/Alizayd al Qahtani, Nahri e-Nahid/Alizayd al Qahtani
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: Anonymous





	Excuses and Weaknesses

"Look, there's nothing wrong with being inexperienced. We've all _been there_ . I'm just saying that you're gonna have some shoes to fill considering her _last_ husband."

Ali glared at Fiza over his stack of scrolls. _"I'm aware._ But do we have to discuss this _now?_ Or at all? I'd prefer not at all," he grumbled. 

Her laughter bounced through the air. "Hey, you're the one that brought up that dumb consort rumor. I'm just trying to avoid this tax scroll nonsense." 

Ali sighed and pulled out a scroll. "These are important, Fiza. I've been working on these numbers all week to make sure these import shops get a fair deal."

Fiza took the scroll and dropped it into an unmarked box. "This is important too. Even _outside_ of Daevabad there are stories about the emir's… _talents_ _."_

"It doesn't matter," he said softly, picking at a scroll ribbon. "I will just figure it out with Nahri, if or when it comes to that."

"Or you can marry someone who _hasn't_ slept with your brother. Avoids the problem entirely, yes?" Fiza suggested jokingly. Ali grunted unamused. "Well, considering how much you yammer on about books, I'm surprised you wouldn't, y'know, _read up on it_." 

A mortified heat filled Ali's face. "I do not read those kinds of books," he muttered indignantly, and Fiza cackled. 

"All I'm saying is that a little advice wouldn't hurt. And your Nahid might appreciate the surprise of you knowing something."

Ali flicked his gaze to Fiza before returning it to the scrolls. "I… suppose being further informed wouldn't be the worst of ideas. But why are you offering to help?"

Fiza stared at him flatly. "In ten minutes my shift ends, and these tax scrolls will be the next worker's problem."

"I could just explain how--"

Fiza grabbed Ali's wrist and pulled him toward the back room. "Nope! Come on!" 

  
  


Fiza shut the door behind them and pushed Ali to a floor cushion under a hazy window. Boxes of merchandise surrounded the room, and by one wall was a table set for tea. Ali sat with a huff as Fiza snapped her fingers, conjuring fire to light a hanging lamp. She took a seat in front of him. 

"Alright, first of all, stop looking like a wounded puppy. Women like confidence. Though earnesty isn't an entirely bad look on you either."

Ali scowled at her. "Are you just going to be insulting me the whole time?"

Fiza shrugged. "Perhaps. Can I assume you know what goes where?" 

Ali blinked at her confused. "What?" 

"The _Talk_ , Alizayd. How _baby shafit_ are made?" She gave him a sly wink and Ali's face erupted in heat. 

He groaned and covered his face. "Of course I-- No, I changed my mind, this was a mistake." Ali rose up and Fiza grabbed his wrist, pulling him back to his seat with a laugh. 

"Relax! I was only checking. Since you know, we can move on to style. How's your kissing?"

He grumbled something under his breath.

" _Have_ you kissed someone before?"

Still flushed, Ali went quiet, his eyes tracing the floor. "I did in Ta Ntry."

Fiza's mouth fell open. "Hot damn. First time?" 

Ali nodded shyly. Fiza chuckled.

"Ok, and? How was it?" 

Ali kept his gaze downward, his mind drifting back to that night in Shefala. " _Amazing_ ," he whispered softly. 

Fiza smirked at him. "Show me."

His eyes darted to hers in alarm. "What?" 

Fiza held out her hand. "No disrespect, prince, but a first time kisser can't tell good from bad. And I can't advise you if I don't know which you are." She nodded to her hand. "Show me."

Ali looked at her hand then up at her incredulously. "I'm not kissing your hand." 

"Would you rather kiss my cheek? Just pretend it's Nahri, give it a peck, and I'll tell you how to improve."

He frowned at her and then looked down at her hand again. 

" _Pretend it's Nahri,"_ she repeated. "With her flowing locks and obsidian eyes, and flawless skin like earth after the morning rain. You're doing this for her, aren't you?" Fiza goaded. 

Ali sighed. Hesitantly he took hold of Fiza's hand and bent towards it. Pausing as his lips hovered over her, his gaze went distant. Then his lids slid shut and he pressed his lips to her skin. It was a soft, slow kiss, and the room seemed to still. 

"That's good," Fiza whispered. "Try using a little tongue. Not too much! Just-- yeah." 

Heat crept up her neck as Ali continued, her heart beating unsteady. 

He slowly opened his eyes, pursing his lips as he pulled away. His gaze was averted, shame filling his expression. Fiza cleared her throat. 

"Alright, points for you. That was nice. Don't overdo the tongue. And remember to, uh, mix it up. Long and quick kisses. K-keep her guessing." Fiza swallowed again, trying to force the heat out of her face. 

Ali's gaze was glued to the floor. "R-right."

She took a steadying breath. "Now, about your hands. Do you know what to do with them?"

"What do you mean?" 

Fiza feigned a laugh. "You can't just kiss her. You gotta use your hands, too. What'd you do in Ta Ntry?" 

Thinking back to that night, Ali frowned. He hadn't known what he was doing at all, and wasn't bold enough to touch Nahri anywhere, really. "Her hair," he said slowly, recalling. "I tangled my fingers in her hair. And I held her close. Her back?" He bit his lip. This was embarrassing. He was an inexperienced fool compared to what Nahri was used to. Why would she ever want _him?_

"Hey." Fiza snapped her fingers in front of his face, and his sorrowful eyes flicked up to hers. "None of that insecure shit. What'd I say about confidence?" 

Ali kept his defeated frown. "What's the point? I'm just going to disappoint her."

"You will with that attitude! Why do you think I'm helping you?" Fiza knocked his shoulder with her hand and then pulled him closer. "Now listen. This isn't hard! A few moves go a long way, and then she'll tell you what she likes. But if you show up like this, it'll be over before it starts." 

Still frowning, Ali nodded. "What do I do?" he asked softly. 

Fiza turned to face him, adjusting her legs beneath her. "Hands gotta roam," she said knowingly. "Hair is good. Little tug, even more so. But let those hands wander." 

She reached out for his face, her hands framing his jaw. Ali went still, his yellow-dappled eyes darting around like a nervous fish. Her fingers traced down his neck and then over his shoulders. He inhaled sharply as she ran them down the sides of his torso, grabbing her wrists in alarm as she reached his waist. 

Her copper-flecked eyes stared directly back at him. "This is practice, Alizayd. It's how you improve."

"There's not supposed to _be_ any _practice._ " Ali hissed. "That's not--" 

"Says the man who made out in Ta Ntry?" Fiza retorted with a slight edge. 

Ali scowled. "It was wrong. But I was sacrificing myself to a sea demon so she wouldn't drown the coast, after learning I was descended from a murderous crocodile. Excuse me for having a moment of weakness." 

Fiza's gaze softened. "I'm not judging you, prince. But you're at a disadvantage here. Do you want to show up in her bed like a scared kitten? Or do you want her to have a good time?" 

Breathing heavily, Ali's expression faltered. Slowly his grip on her wrists relaxed and Fiza took his hands and placed them on each side of her face. 

"Now do what I did."

Ali's gaze was averted, his expression furrowed like he was still trying to decide. Fiza cleared her throat, then spoke with a pitched Egyptian accent. "I'm Nahri. I have a scalpel and a mighty attitude to match my gorgeous looks and flying shedu. I saved Daevabad so I could run a hospital my hot boyfriend built for me." Ali chuckled at that, the motion washing away some tension. 

With a small breath, he leaned in close. His lips brushed Fiza's cheek as his fingers delicately traced down her neck. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands slid to her collar, curling around her breasts and then down her ribs. They settled around her waist, holding her firm with the slightest of tremors. 

Fiza exhaled into Ali's ear, sending a shiver through him. "Oh, shit." 

Before she could stop herself, she turned Ali's face and pressed her lips to his. Ali blinked stunned as her tongue slipped into his mouth. Before his mind could wrap itself around what was happening, he was falling backwards to the floor, Fiza's weight on top of him twisting with his memories of Shefala. 

"W-wait," he gasped as Fiza moved to kiss his neck. She licked his throat with the tip of her tongue and he trembled, his breath catching. "Oh," he murmured, and Fiza did it again in another spot, smirking at how it made him shake. 

"Hands," she whispered as she resumed kissing him, her own kneading into his arms. He hesitantly held his hands to her back, bringing one up to her neck. She huffed past his ear and reached behind her to grab his hand and moved it to cup her butt. He inhaled sharply and she licked his throat again. 

"I mean it," she growled, her breath hot against his skin. "Confidence."

Ali shook but kept his hand there. Heart pounding in his ears, water beading on his brow, nothing made sense and pleasure warred with the alarms blaring inside him. 

"Roam," she ordered against his mouth, and he obliged. His shaking fingers trailed her body's curves, pressing into each dip until she moaned, rocking her hips into his. Energy jolted through him. 

"Again," she gasped, and Ali froze, staring at her horrified as if waking from a daze. 

"Don't stop," she complained, pressing herself closer to him. Her eyes shifted to Ali's, and her desirous expression faltered as she recognized it was no longer mirrored. 

His voice shook. "Get off me." He wriggled beneath her, pushing her away. "Get off!" 

Fiza stumbled as Ali crawled back on his elbows, his whole body shaking with desire and revulsion.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "W-what am I doing?" 

Fiza raised her hands. "Alizayd, calm down. I-It's okay! It just got out of hand."

Ali looked up at her incredulously. " _Out of hand?"_ He looked like he was going to be sick. "I can't believe I…" He covered his face with his hands. "This isn't what I wanted. I- I didn't mean for this to-- How could I do this to Nahri?"

"To _Nahri?_ God, you don't even see it." Fiza growled, settling onto her knees.

His chest heaving, Ali glared at her through his fingers. "What are you talking about?" 

Fiza bit her lip, her emotions raw and unable to fully check her tone. "You. You do so much for _her_ , but what is she doing for _you?"_

Ali looked at her utterly confused. "Nahri is amazing. And I… I betrayed her."

"She betrayed you!!" Fiza roared. "She doesn't deserve you!" 

Ali leaned back in shock, face full of outraged denial and mouth ready to argue, but Fiza wasn't done. "Haven't you heard the rumors? She let the Scourge _go._ " Ali pressed his mouth into a thin line at that, shaking at the mention of that name. Fiza picked up on it and nodded savagely. "Ah, so you have heard. Did you also hear _how_ she let him go? How she _pleaded_ for him to _stay?"_

Ali squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away. 

"How she wept in his arms as he kissed her?" 

"Stop," Ali whispered. 

"How she declared she would take his hand a _thousand_ times?" 

_"Stop."_ Ali growled. 

"That she would always--"

" _I SAID STOP."_ Ali commanded, water bursting around him and shattering the teapot nearby. His reptilian eyes glowed yellow, the black pupils narrowed into slits. Then, like the pattering of rain, his expression crumbled. "I don't want to hear it," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Fiza leaned back, unfazed by his outburst. "She doesn't deserve you," she repeated, her voice low. "Not your kindness, not your affection, not anything. She's a hypocrite like every Nahid before her."

Ali rubbed his brow, feeling too hoarse to speak to her defense even as it burned in his heart. He knew Nahri. She was brave, and brilliant. But she had a soft-spot for that monster, a loyalty despite all of the horrors he had committed. 

_I don't want to think about this_. 

How could he? How did he make peace with the woman he loved being loyal to a monster that slaughtered innocents? That buried djinn alive and brought a wave of death that destroyed his home and killed thousands of his brethren. That would have killed _him_ , and had tried to several times. Would she still be loyal to him if he had succeeded? 

Ali's mind flashed back to that night years ago, when he woke up in the infirmary after the Afshin's rampage on the boat. How his father relayed that when he had been shot and fell into the lake, Nahri tried to flee with that demon.

An unsteady breath rattled in Ali's chest and Fiza edged closer, her hand stretching out to him. She stroked his shoulder, and his feverish gaze met hers. 

"She's not your only option. You deserve better," she said softly, her voice pained. "Someone who would choose you over everything else."

Ali stared at Fiza, but in his mind he saw Nahri, choosing him over her mother and the Daeva victory her invasion promised. Choosing him and Dhiru as she pulled the ceiling down on Darayavahoush. Choosing him and Daevabad as they bid farewell to her home and a quiet life in Cairo. All the time they had spent together in the Royal Library, and rebuilding the hospital; staying in Cairo and traveling to Ta Ntry. Their work reshaping Daevabad. The way she smiled, and the way she laughed. How she didn't need to wear a mask when they were together. How they could just be Nahri and Ali. 

"I love her," he admitted quietly, and Fiza rolled her eyes in disgust. He looked up at her, anger blossoming in his face. " _I love her,_ " he repeated with conviction. "It's not perfect. I can't pretend it doesn't bother me. I don't know how to make peace with it. But I love her."

Ali climbed to his feet, and wiped his eyes dry.

"I'm sorry, Fiza. Truly. I hope we can still be friends. But I won't abandon her. And it was wrong to do this."

Fiza shook her head. "Damn nobles," she muttered. "No sense at all." She stood up, adjusting her clothing. Her eyes took in the teapot's shattered clay pieces that littered the floor and she sighed. "I'm sorry this got so out of hand. I didn't… I shouldn't have said those things." Her gaze flicked up to his. "And of course we're still friends, you sap. Who else is going to look out for your dumb ass." 

Ali paused, his response leaving his mouth before he could think better of it. "Don't you mean my _well-formed_ ass."

"Get the fuck out of here," Fiza laughed, shoving him towards the door as he broke into a hesitant grin. "Is that your only joke? Go learn a new one after you pray for forgiveness."

The door slammed shut behind him, but Fiza kept her palms pressed against it. Her smile faded with a twitch, her skin prickling where she and Ali had touched. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. 

"Idiot," she whispered to herself. 

**Author's Note:**

> "Pick me. Choose me. Love me."  
> I only like them for the angst.  
> (Does that make Ali a nerdy McDreamy?)


End file.
